“Why would you do a foolish thing like that? Ronald here is your father.” Beatrice basically jumps down my throat. “He raised you. Not that…” She waves an errant hand around. “That criminal.” Her lips pucker on the word as though my father is a vile creature.
My Nan, my paternal grandmother swore my father didn’t hurt Kerry, his girlfriend. The woman he is accused of killing. The problem with that is my dad was under the influence and doesn’t remember anything. Him and Kerry had been at a party where there were drugs and lots of alcohol and my dad apparently thought he was okay to drive when he most certainly wasn’t.
The accident report says that he hit a guardrail and the impact threw Kerry from the car. Her body landed on the freeway and my father drove off and left her. He woke up several hours later to the police beating down his apartment door to arrest him.
At first, my dad fought the charges but eventually he plead guilty.
I roll my eyes. “Ronald is not my father, he’s the man that married my mother. My father is in jail, sure, but he’s still my dad. And I will see him if I want to,” I snap.
“Candice, are you going to allow this behavior?” Beatrice questions, appearing appalled.
“Conleigh, sweetie, I need your help in the kitchen.” The tone of my mother’s voice indicates just how annoyed by my behavior she is.
“Excuse me,” I say, not attempting to hide my snarky attitude.
I hate coming here where everyone is so fucking wonderful, and I am expected to live up to their standards of perfection.
Joining my mother in the kitchen, I prepare for her to berate me.
“You just had to bring your father up, didn’t you? Why do you continually throw that man in Ronald’s face after everything he has done for you. He raised you when your father abandoned you. He paid for your car, your clothes, your school. He even gives you an allowance even though you are an adult.” She shakes her head. A bleach blonde tendril es
capes her up do as she takes a shaky drink of wine.
“I never asked that man in there to do anything for me. You think he does them because he gives a shit about me? He only does them because I came as part of the package. You think I don’t know how he feels about me? How he wanted me to go away to private school, so he wouldn’t have to share you with me. I’m not stupid. Just because you turn a blind eye to the dick that you married doesn’t mean that I do.”
Thwack. That is the sound of my mother’s hand slapping across my cheek. The pain radiates through my jaw and up to my eye.
“You ungrateful little bitch. How dare you.”
I hold my cheek as her stare smothers me.
“That’s me.” I shove past her as she follows me.
“Conleigh, stop. I didn’t mean…”
“Thanks so much for this lovely family meal. But…I’m gonna pass, and you know, maybe forget about trying to contact me again. I’ll be sure to spend even more time with my real dad now, since you’re no longer my mother.”
I’ve made it to the closet now. Grabbing my jacket, I pull my keys, my wallet, and cell phone from the pockets. Taking the debit card Ronald gave me, along with the keys to my car, and the phone. I throw them down on a table in the entryway.
“There, now you can give it all back. I don’t want or need his handout. I’ll pay my own way.”
“Conleigh, don’t be ridiculous. Do you think Ezra will support you? What are you going to do—go get knocked up so he will marry you?”
“No, because I am nothing like you. I don’t need a man to take care of me. I can take care of myself. If I can borrow the phone though, I’ll call Bailey to pick me up.”
“Whatever. Do what you want to. You won’t last a week without our help.” She looks at me with that tired expression she always gave my father, shakes her head once, and returns to the dining room.
We’ll just see about that. I’d rather work at a fast food place than have to come to her or Ronald for help.
I send Bailey a quick message, begging her to pick me up, then I walk to the end of the driveway and wait for her by the gate.
————
“What’s wrong with your car? Bails asks, as I get in the passenger seat.
“My mother. You know how she is.” I sigh and bang my head against the window. I’m not really in the mood to talk about it right now.
“She giving you shit still for seeing your dad?”